


Scar of the Heart

by curiousconstellations



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Demon Hunters, F/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 01:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12806481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiousconstellations/pseuds/curiousconstellations
Summary: Emma Swan hunts alone. Except on nights when Killian Jones, fellow demon hunter and pain in her ass, insists on joining her. When dealing with a particularly troublesome beast, they discover that perhaps there is more to each other than meets the eye. Captain Swan soulmate/demon hunter AU, one shot.





	Scar of the Heart

Emma crouches in her hiding place, regulating her breathing to a slow, steady pace as she concentrates on listening to the sounds of the forest. Holding tightly on the crossbow she waits, the silver-tipped arrow ready to shoot straight into the wendigo’s heart as soon as it shows itself.

‘Swan, fancy seeing you out here.’

Emma grits her teeth at the voice, closing her eyes with a shake of her head and mentally counting to ten to refrain herself from firing the arrow straight into the chest of Killian Jones.

‘It’s my job, Jones.’ Emma sighs, standing up just as Killian steps into her space. He’s the only hunter in the radius of ten villages that matches her kills and the arrogant asshole knows it.

‘And I do my job alone.’ Emma adds, glancing at the hunting gear on his back and the weapon in his hand.

‘Aye, but having someone watch your back can’t hurt, particularly with a wendigo, nasty buggers that they are.’ Killian grins, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. He’s charming and undeniably attractive, but she’s seen him prancing around the tavern after a hunt and can guess that the number of women he’s shared a bed with could rival the number of creatures he’s killed.

‘How did you even know I came for it tonight?’ Emma asks quietly, shifting her weight with irritation. It’s dark, the moonlight the only illumination in the thick forest of trees, but she can still see Killian’s amused expression and she rolls her eyes.

‘Someone in the village close by was reported dead last night, of course you came.’ She hates the way he says it so matter-of-factly, like he _knows_ her.

‘Yeah well, we’re going to be next if you don’t shut up and let me do my job.’ Emma grumbles, turning away and pulling the crossbow back up in a stance of attack.

‘Such a fiery one you are, Swan.’ Killian murmurs, and Emma shakes away the feeling that it was said as a compliment (and worse, that she appreciated it).

They both wait in silence, their breathing falling into a pattern together as they look in opposite directions for a sign of movement. They’ve run into each other on hunts before, but Emma usually just marches off on her own and kills the creature herself (20 times to 9, not that she’s keeping score). Emma Swan hunts alone. That’s the way it’s always been.

‘You weren’t at the tavern the other night.’ Killian whispers after a long stretch of silence. Emma turns her head to glare at him, but he continues looking out into the dark forest ahead and she takes a moment to appreciate his features. She usually sees him when he’s dirty from hunting or when his cheeks are rosy with alcohol in the tavern, but she’s never seen him looking quite as normal as he does now.

‘You say it like I go often.’ Emma replies, her eyes following his lips as they curve upwards into a smile.

‘I mean because it was Friday. Whenever you stop by for drinks with Ruby, it’s always been a Friday.’ Killian says softly, and Emma finds herself surprised that he had observed her routine so closely.

‘Something came up.’ Emma shrugs. She had intended to give him a piece of her mind and tell him how it wasn’t any of his business what she does in her free time, but there was something in the way he had spoken that was void of any rudeness or nosiness. It almost sounded like he cared.

Silence falls between them again and Emma finds that her mind is wandering in all kinds of directions tonight. She blames Killian for her lack of focus, but she has to admit that she does appreciate the small amount of comfort she takes from knowing that he has her back. They’re not friends, far from it, but Emma knows he is a good hunter and trusts his instinct.

‘I didn’t think that this would be your method of attack, Swan.’ Killian whispers a while later and she can see the cloud of breath from his lips in the moonlight.

‘What?’ Emma demands with a frown.

‘Waiting for it to come to you. You strike me as the kind of woman that would march right into the creature’s lair and kill it then and there.’ Everything Killian says is accompanied by a grin and it makes her wonder whether he is being sincere or mocking her.

‘I do that all the time, just not with wendigos. They’re smart and strong and create their lairs to trap even the best hunters. I’ve survived this long because I know when to put my pride aside.’ Emma retorts, rolling her eyes again when Killian’s grin widens.

‘Are you insinuating that I do not? Because I’m just as much of a survivor as you are, love.’ Killian replies and Emma sniffs from the cold and shakes her head.

‘I didn’t insinuate anything, but if that’s what you inferred there must be a reason.’

‘The reason being that you never miss an opportunity to make a snide remark about me, so it was a reasonable inference to make.’

‘God, you’re insufferable.’ Emma mutters, standing up abruptly and swinging her crossbow intentionally towards Killian as she moves to leave their spot hidden between the trees.

‘Swan, you shouldn’t go out there by yourself.’ Killian sighs, standing up and swinging his hunting gear back onto his shoulder.

‘It beats staying here with you.’ Emma retorts, looking away to avoid seeing Killian’s reaction. She knows that she is being rude, but something about Killian elicits a strange reaction from her that makes her uncomfortable and hating him is the easiest way to cope with his presence in her life.

‘Emma-’ She hears him call behind her, but the rest of his words are cut off by the sudden burst of pain across her stomach and her eyes dart frantically to spot the wendigo racing between the trees at a supernatural speed.

Emma looks down to see her shirt darkening with blood. The wound feels like nothing more than a sting right now, but from her years of experience and research she knows the pain will only continue to get worse. She swings her head around to catch sight of where the wendigo went but suddenly Killian is crowding around her, muttering things under his breath and inspecting the claw marks across her stomach.

‘Jones, I’m fine, just let me kill it.’ Emma shakes her head but the motion makes her weak and all she catches is Killian emphatically saying no. He tends to her wound as best he can in the dark forest with the health supplies from his pack, glancing around cautiously every few seconds for the creature.

Her eyelids feel heavy and she internally curses him for distracting her. This never would have happened if she was alone.

‘Swan, I need to get you out of here. It’s not safe and I can’t clean the wound properly like this.’ Killian murmurs frantically, putting his arm around her even as she grumbles in opposition. She’s still strong enough to push him away, but she knows that wendigos tease their victims by injuring them first and working up an appetite with the smell of their blood. It won’t be long before the creature comes for her again, and she won’t be able to walk away from that.

They try to stay slow and quiet but she can feel her skin splitting further as they walk and with each gasp of pain Killian ushers her along even quicker. They reach the edge of the forest and Killian exhales, taking the crossbow from her hand and shoving it into his bag before slinging it over his back and scooping her up in his arms.

‘It’s quicker this way now that we’re on more even ground. Don’t bother complaining, I’m trying to save your life.’ He says, the hint of a smile on his lips before a frown tugs his eyebrows back down as he concentrates. The initial movement of being lifted hurts her open wound, but Emma must admit she’s glad she’s off her feet. She closes her eyes and grits her teeth from the pain, hoping Killian gets to wherever he is heading rather soon.

Emma jumps with a start when she comes back to consciousness as Killian gently lowers her to her feet. Her stomach throbs and her head is cloudy with exhaustion as she squints at her surroundings, trying to figure out where Killian took her. He’s opening a door and tossing their hunting gear through the doorway before gently guiding her inside. Emma’s shoulders sag with relief when she realizes it’s his home, and fortunately she’s in too much of a state to overthink this.

Killian bustles about once she’s lying on his bed, telling her not to move or touch the wound. There are several snarky comments on the tip of her tongue but they fall away when he stands over her and she sees the concern in his eyes.

‘I need to lift your shirt to clean the wound.’ Killian says softly, and it takes her a moment to realize he is asking for her permission. She nods slowly and Killian crouches down beside her, gently moving away the torn material. He continues working with a gentle touch, wiping away the blood with a cloth and pouring alcohol to clean the wound (she had groaned loudly and cursed under her breath at that, his smirk breaking the tension a little).

Emma has sustained injuries while working before, but most were just small cuts on her arms or knees that were easily managed once she got home. A wendigo cut was more severe though, and could even be fatal on the right parts of the body. She knew that Killian had been badly injured once, his left hand amputated to stop the spread of some demon’s venom, or at least that’s what she’s heard. She’s even heard stories that he attaches a hook in place of his hand when he goes hunting, but she’s never actually seen it in the times that she had run into him on hunts.

‘How is the pain? Are you experiencing any nausea or light-headedness?’ Killian asks as he works away on her stomach and she manages to snort derisively.

‘A wendigo just sliced my stomach, what do you think?’ Emma replies, tilting her head to watch his expression in response. Killian smiles and shakes his head, his eyes darting up to meet hers briefly. Now that he appears less concerned for her, she sees something else in his eyes that surprises her; she really isn’t sure why he would look at her with such affection when she’s simply an acquaintance that’s currently bleeding on his bed.

Emma puts her head back down and closes her eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted as she comes down from the adrenaline. Killian gently puts his hand under her back and she arches to allow him to wrap the bandage around her middle. His hands are warm against her and she sighs, simultaneously wishing for him to leave her alone and for him to continue caring for her.

Killian finishes wrapping the bandage and pins it tightly together, but she senses his hand lingering and a sense of dread washes over her.

‘It’s just a scar I got on the job a few years back.’ Emma murmurs, opening her eyes to confirm her suspicion that Killian was looking over the mark by her hip.

‘We hunters have got plenty of those.’ Killian says humorously as he moves to pull her shirt back down. He appears to not be entirely sure of his next move and she closes her eyes again, finding it easier not to be so aware of the fact that she’s vulnerable and lying on the bed of Killian Jones.

‘You should sleep. I’ll check on the wound again when you wake up.’ He says quietly, and Emma finds herself giving in to her drowsy exhaustion, not even bothering to overthink the situation for now. She feels Killian’s hand lightly touch her arm before he places a blanket over her, hearing him whisper goodnight just before she slips into a well needed deep sleep.

* * *

 

Killian wasn’t a terrible person, he wouldn’t have just left an injured person out in the forest, vulnerable to another attack from the creature. The logical thing would be to take said injured person somewhere safe and tend to the wound to avoid infection. It’s also within reason to expect him to allow this injured person to rest after the attack, the soft surface of his bed the best place for them.

Everything that happened is exactly what would happen. A completely normal series of events. So Emma really doesn’t know why she’s plagued with all kinds of thoughts the following morning when she wakes up in Killian’s bed, a flask of water and a bowl of ointment for her wound sitting on the table beside her.

Killian’s house is small but warm and homely and Emma is thankful that the fireplace is close to the bed. The fire still burns but it seems to have been a while since it was last stoked and she wonders where Killian is.

Emma takes a drink from the flask, her mouth dry with thirst and her lips cracked from dehydration. There is a dull pain across her stomach as she moves, but it’s bearable and no where near as severe as last night. She moves to lie on her side, wincing as she does so but finding the position more comfortable after lying on her back the entire night.

Hearing a noise from outside she closes her eyes again, not quite ready to face Killian just yet. Her mind is still trying to understand him, her thoughts constantly returning to the way his hands felt against her skin, even if it had been when she was bleeding out from the cuts across her stomach. She’s never hated him, but his bravado often held her back from thinking much about him. She respected him as a hunter, but she had never really cared to know him beyond that.

Killian comes in and immediately comes over to the bed, standing over her for a few seconds before walking towards the fire. Emma waits a moment before slowly peeling her eyes open, relieved to see that he has his back to her. He places another log on the fire and stokes it, holding out his hands in front of the flames to warm them up. She almost clears her throat to let him know she’s awake but he turns slightly away from the fire and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

She should close her eyes, or say something, or turn away. But she doesn’t do any of those things. Instead she watches him undress, her cheeks growing hot despite herself. Emma silently takes in the hair on his chest and the muscles of his arms before her eyes drift lower.

Suddenly sickness washes over her as she notices the mark just above his left hip. The same mark she has, the one she had told him was just a scar. He had played along, all the while knowing it was a scar of the heart, not a monster.

Emma lies frozen in bed, panic setting in and making her heart beat ridiculously fast. She could just get up and leave, but Killian would see right through her attempts at telling him she was fine. She could pretend that she never saw anything, just as he had done the previous night.

She could say something.

(She definitely won’t say anything.)

Feigning sleep for a little while longer is the easiest option, but Emma soon falls back asleep to the sound of the fire crackling and Killian’s low humming as he moves around her quietly. When she wakes again it’s to the smell of freshly baked bread and the rumble of her stomach.

‘Ah, there you are Swan. You were out for so long I was beginning to worry.’ Killian says just as he places a plate of bread on the table beside her. She hungrily slides up the bed and grabs it, wincing at the pain of her wound as she moves.

‘How are you feeling? Besides the obvious hungry of course.’ He asks with a soft smile. She doesn’t like it when he does that, when he looks at her with affection and smiles like he knows her. Emma swallows and the bread feels thick in her throat as she tries to avoid meeting Killian’s eyes.

‘I feel fine. I’m ready to go home now.’ Emma replies, finishing off the bite of bread in her hand and throwing back the blanket he had put across her last night.

‘Are you sure? I haven’t even applied the ointment I made for you yet.’ He sounds disappointed and she bites back a groan of frustration at the way her cuts sting and how Killian puts out a hand to help her up and the fact that her heart leaps when he touches her.

‘I can make my own.’ Emma mumbles, biting the inside of her cheek when Killian’s hand squeezes hers.

‘I know how stubborn you are and that I’ll never be able to convince you of something if you’re set against it. But at least let me know how you are soon, Swan? Otherwise I’ll have nightmares of you splitting open your stomach and bleeding out with no one to help.’ Killian shrugs with a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Emma studies him, looking over the soft redness of his cheeks, the darkness of his lashes and the blue of his eyes. It’s then, as she really looks at him in their close proximity, that she realizes that he too has just discovered his soulmate.

He hadn’t known she was his soulmate when he came out into the forest to help her and offered to watch her back, or when he cared for her and guided her back to his home safely. He hadn’t known all the times they saw each other across the tavern that he was looking at his soulmate.

The Killian Jones she thought she knew would have declared himself her soulmate as soon as he had seen her mark, but he didn’t. There are two reasons why he might have done that, and she knows from his affectionate gazes that he might just feel something for her. So, that leaves the second reason; that he doesn’t think she feels anything for him.

‘I’ll be strong enough to get that wendigo soon enough.’ Emma jokes lightly, watching as Killian’s head tilts as he raises his eyebrows.

‘Aye, well you may have to find another. I went back and killed the creature last night after you fell asleep.’ Killian admits, looking down and scratching his ear awkwardly. Before, she would have been irritated that he took a kill from her, but seeing him so bashful about it is refreshing to say the least, and it surprisingly makes her smile.

‘I guess that makes it 20 to 10 then.’ She teases, her stomach flipping at the way Killian’s face brightens.

‘I knew you kept score.’ He grins with a shake of his head. Their smiles last a moment longer before they both sober up and Emma realizes that her hand is still in his. She subtly slips away from his touch to search for her cloak, having been in too much pain last night to notice where Killian had put it. It was on the hook behind her, hanging beside his own belongings. For every wary thought she has of Killian Jones, there is another reminding her how caring he had been, how quick he had been to help her and how genuine his concern was, all before he had even seen her mark.

 ‘Well, I should get going.’ Emma sighs as she pulls her cloak around her shoulders and picks up her bag of hunting gear by the door. Killian nods and she wishes he would just say something ridiculous so she could roll her eyes and fall back into her usual exasperation towards him.

Killian gives her a half smile as she leaves and she feels his eyes on her as she makes her way along the path to the village. Despite her lengthy sleep and the comfort of Killian’s bed, she longs to rest again, particularly with her wound stinging every time she moves. Perhaps she should have accepted Killian’s ointment (perhaps she wanted a reason to stay with him a little while longer).

* * *

 

Killian shoves a couple of his hunting daggers haphazardly into his satchel and swings it over his shoulder, his anxious energy causing his forehead to prickle with perspiration. It was at least two hours after sundown and he was running late. On nights that he hunts, Killian is in the forest at sundown, weapons in hand ready to kill whatever creature emerges in the darkness.

Killian had lost track of time, spending most of his evening wandering around the market and replenishing his herbal and medicinal supplies. He had finished most of his collection when he made the ointment for Emma, and he feigns ignorance to his own mind that any thoughts regarding Emma were purely out of concern and consideration of her wound. He had most definitely not been thinking about the mark on her hip that she claimed was a scar. He had not been thinking about how he shares the same mark, and what exactly that makes them to each other.

The past two days had been spent reliving that night and continually recalling their past interactions that may have indicated any such connection, each recollection causing Killian’s cheeks to warm with the desire to have their relationship mean something to her like it did him.

Emma Swan had always been a woman of mystery, something intriguing about her tugging at him and making him want to know her, even if the woman herself had no such intention. Discovering they were soulmates made everything make sense, and yet Emma was in clear denial of what her mark truly was.

For the longest time, Killian hadn’t believed in the idea either. He had searched the body of every intimate partner he had, and having never discovered a matching mark, he questioned how he could feel connections with people that were not connected to his soul, yet never seem to find his true soulmate either. He feels it now, the tingle across his skin whenever his eyes meet Emma’s, whenever his skin touches hers, even just being in the same room as her. Killian doesn’t understand how it works, but he damn well believes it’s real now.

He grits his teeth and shakes away thoughts of Emma to focus on his hunting, something that usually comes naturally to him. His attempt at focusing his mind it quickly made pointless when he opens the door to find Emma standing there, one hand raised ready to knock and the other cradling where her wound is.

‘Emma, is everything okay?’ Killian asks with concern, sliding his bag back off his shoulder as he takes in her pained expression.

‘I was wondering if you still have that ointment?’ She replies, and just as his eyes drift back down to her stomach he’s hit with a pungent smell that’s radiating off her wound.

‘It’s infected, you should have come to me sooner.’ Killian mutters as he ushers her inside and directs her towards the bed. Emma winces but otherwise moves silently, lying down on his bed and lifting her shirt to show the infected mess on her stomach. Killian bustles about getting the unused ointment from the other day and some bandages and alcohol.

He works away at cleaning the wound first, flushing it out with alcohol and wiping away the residue of infection. It isn’t until the wound is clean and he starts applying the ointment that he catches sight of her mark, and with one nervous swoop of his stomach he glances up at her. She’s been quiet, the only sounds she made being of discomfort, and he wonders how she let the wound fester like this.

‘Emma-’

‘I wanted to see you, okay? I drove myself crazy trying to come up with an excuse to see you, because I was too damn scared to just come.’ Emma’s voice is barely above a whisper, and he thinks he sees the tremble of her chin as she inhales.

‘So you let yourself get into this mess? Swan, nothing is worth hurting yourself like that.’ Killian says softly, his mouth curving when she twitches at the gentle touch of his hand across her stomach as he applies the ointment.

‘I know…about the mark. You mark, my mark, and whatever the hell that means we are to each other.’ Emma murmurs, staring up at the ceiling as his hand freezes on her stomach. His eyes drift back to her hip, and he finds himself tracing the mark that sits there with the tip of his finger. Even the light touch makes his pulse jump, and suddenly he’s very aware of the fact that his soulmate is lying beneath him.

‘I suppose it was a bit of disappointment to discover it was me then.’ Killian says darkly with a shake of his head as he unravels the string of cloth to wrap around her waist. Emma’s hand delicately wraps around his wrist and she finally looks at him, a look that makes his stomach flip with nerves and desire and fear.

‘Can I see it?’ She asks softly, and after a moment of surprise he nods. She lets go of him and he stands, tugging his shirt away to reveal the mark on his hip. It’s the same as hers, yet he can’t help but feel self conscious about it as her thumb brushes over it and her eyes roam his exposed skin.

‘I wasn’t disappointed that you were mine.’ Emma whispers, and her words ignite a swell of hope in his chest that makes him sigh with relief.

‘I’m just sorry I have to be yours.’ She adds, and the smile forming on his lips quickly drops at the troubled expression in her eyes.

‘Emma, I thought I’d never find my soulmate. I thought the entire thing was a bloody joke for years. But when I saw your mark the other night, suddenly everything made sense. It made sense that it was you, that there is a reason for this pull I feel towards you. You should not be sorry Swan, because I’m a damn lucky man to have the universe believe that you are my kindred spirit.’ Killian tells her firmly, his chest tightening at the way her eyes glaze over with unshed tears.

A silence falls between them and Killian gestures for Emma to lie back down so he can finish tending to her wound. She shivers as he wraps the bandage around her and he glances over at the empty fire, then at his hunting gear by the door.

‘I’ll build up the fire, love.’ Killian says softly as his hand brushes over the goose bumps on her skin. She smiles gratefully, sheepishly pulling her shirt down once he’s finished with the bandage.

‘I don’t wish to keep you from hunting tonight.’ Emma says quietly, her eyes landing on his bag. Killian shakes his head and tucks her hair behind her ear, his smile returning when Emma flutters her eyelashes at the affectionate touch.

‘There was no word of any creature out there tonight anyway, I was actually just going to clear my head.’ Killian shrugs as he walks towards the fireplace.

‘Well you are trailing me in kills so you do need the extra time out there to catch up.’ Emma retorts, and he turns back to her in surprise, grinning at the smirk on her lips.

‘Aye, that I am. I may have to step up my game with my soulmate being such a fierce competitor.’ Killian replies, only worrying about his words after they left his mouth. It was perhaps premature to joke about their relationship, particularly when it was unclear as to where exactly they stood with one another. An apology is on his lips until he notices Emma is still smiling and he relaxes.

‘Aye, that I am.’ Emma responds, turning to lie on her side and pulling his blanket over herself.

He builds up the fire and stokes it until the room warms and Emma is no longer shivering, although she remains under his blanket. Killian perches on the end of the bed as they talk, finding himself needing to reach out for Emma, to caress her leg or hold her hand. Every moment he wonders if it is too much, but Emma begins to seek out his touch too and he relaxes into their affectionate and comforting gestures. She’s hesitant to open up at first, and even as they talk throughout the night he knows she is holding back, but he can see in her eyes how hard she is trying and he squeezes her hand to let her know it is okay.

The sun is just beginning to rise when Killian notices Emma’s fatigue and he slides in under the blanket beside her, his hand resting over the mark on her hip. She hums and pulls him closer, and it feels as if every single worry in his life vanishes in her presence.

* * *

 

Emma watches Killian as he reads by the fire, her eyes taking in the details of him she never noticed before. His brows are furrowed in concentration and she bites her lip, the desire to kiss him until his expression softens so strong her stomach flips.

Just a few days ago, Killian Jones was the arrogant competition that sometimes tagged along on her hunts like a puppy desperate to show off his tricks. Now he is someone different, a softer man of self doubt and compassion, a man that was connected to her in ways she didn’t even understand. Emma’s hand curls around his blanket, clenched with frustration as she dwells on their matching marks.

‘How does it work, the soulmate thing?’ Emma murmurs, Killian’s head snapping up in surprise at the sound of her voice. He immediately puts his book down and comes towards the bed, his hand cupping her face briefly before he raises an eyebrow in a silent request to see her wound. She sighs and turns onto her back, pulling down the blanket and lifting up her shirt.

‘How does it feel today?’ Killian asks, his fingers ghosting over the bandage to see if the wound bled through.

‘You didn’t answer my question.’ Emma replies, moving her hand to touch his wrist. She notices the way he clenches his jaw and she frowns, wondering what it is that troubles him.

‘I don’t have an answer, love. I don’t know how any of this works.’ Killian says softly, avoiding meeting her eyes as he looks over her. He works away at treating her wound and she lets him, staying silent as she glances down at him. Once Killian finishes cleaning the wound she rests her head back on the pillow and closes her eyes. She feels his hand lightly brush across her skin, moving down from her wound to the mark on her hip.

‘I know that I would have chosen you regardless of these marks. Perhaps how I felt about you was because of these marks, I just didn’t know, but I suppose that’s the point. I didn’t know, and yet I still wanted you. You need to know that it is everything to do with you, and nothing to do with the mark.’ Killian says softly, the tips of his fingers still grazing over her skin as he speaks.

Emma sits up in bed, wincing but otherwise ignoring her wound and the tight bandage Killian had wrapped around her torso.

‘Do you remember the night I was hunting the soul eater and you joined me? God, you pissed me off.’ Emma scoffs, shaking her head with a soft smile as Killian offers a small but confused smile in return.

‘Aye, you told me to bugger off and leave you to it.’ Killian recalls, tilting his head and regarding her affectionately.

‘The stars were bright that night. It was cold too, but I remember feeling warm beside you, like you radiated heat or something. You were talking a lot, it irritated me that everything in that forest probably knew we were there, but your voice was a comfort in the darkness I didn’t expect. It had rained not long before I went out there and I could smell the dampness, until you came and all I could smell was soap and leather and spices. You were warm and comforting and familiar, and it made me wonder if that’s what home is meant to feel like.’ Emma is almost too lost in her own recollection of that night to hear Killian murmur her name until his hand cups her face and she looks up at him.

‘You truly felt that way?’ He asks, the hope in his eyes undeniable.

‘Yes.’ Emma replies quietly. She feels her cheeks warm underneath his intense gaze and she looks away with a bashful laugh. She shuffles further up the bed and Killian clears his throat and scratches behind his ear, a gesture that makes the corners of her lips twitch into a smile.

‘Your wound is all clean now. Please don’t let it get to that state again, even if I have to force you to take my ointment.’ Killian says firmly, stepping away from the bed to stoke the fire. A chill hadn’t even settled in the house, but Emma suspects he was simply looking for something to do so he wasn’t awkwardly standing over her.

‘Killian.’ Emma says softly, enjoying the way he looks up at her sheepishly.

‘I think I’d like to find out how it works, being soulmates.’

Killian smiles, a toothy, wide grin that makes her stomach flip.

‘Aye, me too.’

She’s up and out of bed before she even feels a tug on her wound, approaching Killian quicker as he comes to usher her back into bed. Emma silences his concerns with a kiss, shocking him so much he mumbles a sound of surprise against her lips and tenses. She places her hands on either side of his face, her fingers brushing through his hair and she feels him soften at her touch. His surprise turns into passion as he kisses her back and she feels their bodies perfectly mould together as he relaxes.

Killian chuckles when their lips part and Emma feels her heart clench at the sound of his joy.

‘I could spend the rest of my life kissing you.’ He murmurs, his voice deep and spreading heat through her body as he nudges her nose with his.

‘What are soulmates for?’ Emma replies, smiling when Killian hums and captures her lips once more.

* * *

 

1 Year later

‘Killian, as much as I love your lips, we need to track this damn beast.’ Emma murmurs into his mouth, smiling despite herself when he groans and his grip on her hip tightens.

‘Aye, and we will. But sometimes I need _you_.’ He responds, and Emma’s body tingles from head to toe at his words.

‘You’re incorrigible.’ She grins, unable to resist going in for another kiss before reluctantly pulling away. Normally, Killian would have a flirtatious expression that makes her roll her eyes when they stop kissing, but tonight his expression is serious, his gaze heavy and full of longing as he looks at her.

‘Why don’t we return tomorrow night for the banshee, Swan.’ Killian suggests, his thumb brushing across her chin softly.

‘Killian, we can’t just leave knowing she’s out there.’ Emma murmurs, his touch swaying her more than she’d like.

‘We haven’t heard any wailing, love. That’s a sign that for now, no one is dying and we can take a break. We’ve already tracked and killed four beasts this week, I think that’s plenty.’ Killian shrugs, making Emma tilt her head in concern. They make quite the team, and even though they were great hunters alone, together they’ve tracked and killed more demons and creatures than the rest of the local hunters combined. Killian prides himself on this fact, and Emma knows the only time he’s ever left a creature was the time the wendigo scratched her, and even then he went back out and killed it.

‘Killian, what is it? You’ve never wanted to leave mid hunt.’ Emma asks, glancing around the forest before her eyes return to Killian. It’s dark and cold tonight, their breath coming out in wispy clouds. They may not have heard the banshee, but Emma is certain something is out here tonight and she knows Killian’s instincts are just as good as her own.

‘Nothing, love. We just spend many a night out here hunting and perhaps we should be able to enjoy each other’s company in a much more preferable way.’ He smiles, attempting to pass the comment off as flirtatious.

‘What are you avoiding?’ She asks firmly, tired of him dodging her concerns. It wasn’t like him to be so evasive, and with the chill in the air she’d really rather they weren’t having this conversation in the middle of the dark forest with potential monsters lurking and her attention elsewhere.

Killian sighs and steps back, shifting the strap of his bag across his shoulder uncomfortably.

‘The other night when I was in the tavern a seer came to me. I know you don’t believe what any of them have to say Swan, which is why I never mentioned it before. But this woman was different to the usual scaremongers looking to make a quick coin. She told me something and it was difficult to forget.’ He says quietly, glancing over at her to gauge her reaction. Emma nods for him to continue and he clear his throat.

‘She told me that events would repeat themselves, that the suffering and misfortune of the year gone would come back. How can that refer to anything other than your encounter with the wendigo last year? This year with you has been the best of my life, and the only suffering was that night. What if you get hurt again and-’ Killian stops himself and Emma feels her stomach drop. She doesn’t believe seers, or at least she doesn’t believe the ones that frequent the local taverns and claim they are seers. But skepticism or not, she shares Killian’s concern.

‘Killian, what we do is dangerous and we know the risks, it doesn’t take a seer to know that something could happen to one of us. Do you think I don’t worry about _you_ every time we come out here?’ Emma says softly, stepping closer to him as he drops the tension in his shoulders.

‘But we’ve tracked more monsters than any other hunter around here, and it’s not just because we’re pretty damn great at it. It’s because we make one hell of a team. We’ve got each other’s backs, and I trust you with my life. Not to put pressure on you though.’ Emma smiles, easing the tension a little. Killian smiles back, reaching for her arm and squeezing gently.

‘Aye love, we do make a great team.’

Emma is happy that Killian softens, even with the concern still lingering in his eyes as he looks at her lovingly. She decides that perhaps they should just head home early tonight; he did make a good argument about the banshee and right now she’d rather curl up with him by the fire than stay out in the cold night.

‘Even so, I agree that we should call it a night. Let’s go home.’ She says softly, reaching for his hand in the dark. Killian nods with a smile, but she feels a brief brush of his fingers against hers before he suddenly cries out and cradles his stomach.

‘Killian, what’s wrong?’ Emma asks, eyebrows furrowed as she strains to see him in the darkness.

‘I think…I think there’s a wendigo.’ He murmurs, looking down at his blood covered hand before looking around the forest. Emma’s heart thuds and she feels icy all over. She hadn’t even heard or felt it approach and it feels like the time she got hurt all over again. Killian gasps in pain and she winces, recalling exactly what it felt like to be wounded by the creature.

Emma swallows thickly and glances around the trees. They’re deep in the woods and their chances of making it back home without another incident are slim. Biting her lip as she makes her decision, ushering Killian towards the base of a tree, gently tugging the bag off his shoulder and helping him lean against the trunk.

She silently gets a bandage from the bag and wraps it haphazardly around Killian, hoping that the pressure might reduce the bleeding until they get home and she can properly tend to it.

‘Emma.’ Killian mumbles and she shakes her head.

‘I’ll clean it out when we get back, okay? But we’re in too deep, we can’t make it home while it’s still out there. I’ll be right back.’ She says hurriedly. Killian cups her face with his hand and she feels the dampness of his blood on her skin.

‘Swan, I can’t lose you.’ He gasps, his face tight with pain and his breathing uneven and laboured.

‘And I can’t lose you, which is why I need to go kill this thing. It has a taste for you blood now, you know what that means.’ Emma murmurs, searching through their weapons for the correct arrows. She quickly loads an arrow into the crossbow and stores the rest in the bag on her shoulder, stealing a quick glance at Killian before shaking her head.

‘Don’t say it. Neither of us are dying so there is no reason to say it.’ Emma says firmly, turning away to hide her quivering lip as she heads into the thick darkness of the trees, away from Killian’s pained expression and potentially life-threatening wound.

The leaves and twigs crunch beneath her feet and her breath comes out in vapour clouds, a shiver coursing through her simultaneously with the adrenaline.  Killian could not die this way, not after what they’ve been through together.

Emma stops close to the location she suspected was the lair of the wendigo. It’s damn stupid what she’s doing, and she recalls telling Killian that exact thing the last time they encountered a wendigo. But this time she can’t afford to let it run around the woods, feasting on the man she loves.

She lights the fuse on the end of the arrow and slowly approaches, picturing the flaming weapon flying straight into the heart of the monster. Her heart beat increases and her stomach churns, but this time her body isn’t just reacting to the adrenaline of the hunt, but the necessity to kill this damn thing. Approaching the lair, she softens her steps, even if wendigos have heightened hearing she doesn’t need to give herself away that obviously.

A chill crawls up her back and Emma spins around, her eyes darting around trying to spot it. She feels it’s presence, but she can’t waste her shots aimlessly firing at it. She remembers the time she and Killian went training soon after her injury, both trying to outdo each other with their techniques. They were just getting used to seeing each other as soulmates and accepting what was between them. So, naturally, Killian was flirtatious and she witty, teasing each other about their methods and Killian offering to help position her correctly for perfect aim. Emma’s lip twitches at the memory of him lightly touching her arm as she held her crossbow, whispering in her ear about the angle of her elbow as his body moulded to hers.

Emma adjusts her elbow at the recollection and closes her eyes, a technique of her own when she wanted to pay attention to the sounds around her. Feeling the waves of its speed around her and the small but telltale sounds of its location, she anticipates the next move of the wendigo and releases the arrow. Once her eyes are open, she sees the wendigo on the ground, the arrow stuck right in the middle of it’s chest.

With a triumphant nod, Emma watches it burn, turning away and running as she hears it wailing in its final moments. When she reaches Killian, he’s slumped further down the tree and she rushes to him, gently pulling him up and guiding him with his arm over her shoulder.

‘You did it, Swan.’ He mumbles, trying to laugh but it comes out as an unpleasant gurgle and she winces. It’s a long walk back home and they stop several times for Killian to rest momentarily and for Emma to tighten the bandage. He begins mumbling nonsensical things and she panics, stumbling quicker on the uneven path through the trees as he groans. The sight of the trees thinning in a welcomed one and Emma reassures Killian they are close, her heart clenching as he says her name desperately.

When she catches sight of their home she all but collapses and sags with relief when she swings open the door and ushers Killian onto their bed. It’s a strange sense of Déjà vu but the roles are reversed and Emma would give anything to change places with Killian and end his pain.

‘Killian, you still with me?’ Emma asks as she bustles about finding everything she needs to treat his wound.

‘Hmm.’ Killian groans and she hurries over to him. He’s in a terrible condition, his face pale and clammy and his eyes fluttering between consciousness. There is one less concern now that she had killed the wendigo and they are back home, but Killian isn’t completely safe just yet.

He falls unconscious and she works away without worrying about hurting him, cleaning away both the dried and fresh blood and applying ointment to the cut. Emma works methodically until the bandage is wrapped around his torso and she’s tidied everything up. When it finally catches up to her, she allows herself to cry, curling her fingers around his limp hand.

‘I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Killian.’ She says quietly, gently brushing the mark on his hip with her other hand. It had become a spot of comfort, the marks on both of their hips. Whenever her walls would creep back up or her mind was plagued with doubt she would seek out Killian’s mark, a physical reminder of their bond. He does it too, more so when they have an argument or when he has a bad day. Killian likes to trace it lightly as they lie in bed, his troubled expression easing the longer he touches her.

Emma wipes her eyes and settles down in the armchair by the fireplace. There’s a chill in the air but she’s too tired to build up the fire and finds herself falling asleep as soon as she tucks her legs underneath herself, looking over at Killian before closing her eyes.

* * *

 

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is how dry his mouth is. The second thing he notices is how bitterly cold the house is, and the third is Emma’s sleeping form curled up in the armchair. The events of the previous night suddenly come rushing back to him when he shifts in bed and feels the tightness around his stomach. Fortunately, the pain is minimal, and he can tell Emma did a good job cleaning the wound, but he still feels the roughness of the morning after an injury.

With a wince he gets up and takes a drink from the flask beside the bed before heading over to build up the fire. Killian stops by Emma’s side first, lightly kissing her forehead and pulling the blanket back over her where it had fallen in the night. It takes him a while to maneuver himself around with the logs and kindling and despite the chill in the air his forehead prickles with perspiration from his efforts.

‘Killian, you shouldn’t be up exerting yourself.’ Emma says quietly behind him just as he gets the fire going and he looks over his shoulder to see her simultaneously yawning and giving him a look of disapproval.

‘It was cold, love. I couldn’t let us both freeze to death.’ He grins, walking towards her just as she stands up. She reaches her arms out for a hug and he eagerly embraces her.

‘You’re so dramatic.’ Emma mumbles teasingly into his neck, but he senses the shift in her body language that tells him she’s tense. He rubs her back and she sighs, squeezing him a little harder with her arms.

‘I love you.’ Killian feels his stomach flip at her words despite having heard them numerous times in recent months. Emma had been hesitant to say those words, he had known by the way she would find any other way of saying it (and quite often showing it, which he didn’t mind at all).

It had been a warm spring evening when she finally said it, the air hot and the rum burning his throat and his belly full of fire, stoked by her heavy gaze of desire. They shared drinks and looks and touches at the tavern before going back to his for a nightcap and she had smiled the entire way home, holding his hand and laughing freely. They sat in his armchairs and shared stories as they passed his flask of rum back and forth, skin touching each time. They had been physically intimate for a few months already, but Emma had never fully opened up to him emotionally.

She had yawned and invited herself to sit on his lap, wiggling with a pleased smile when he had wrapped his arms around her. It was then, in his lap with his arms around her and his lips grazing her neck, that she murmured the words softly. He knew by the way her lips curved that she had meant it, and that she had wanted to say it. He said it back, relieved to finally be able to voice his love for her without worrying about her walls and pushing him away.

‘I love you too.’ Killian replies, hugging her a little tighter with the memory fresh in his mind.

Emma forces him back to bed for the rest of the day and he quietly goes along with her orders, knowing she’s too damn stubborn to allow anything else. The warmth from the fire and the smell of Emma’s cooking comforts him, but what really makes it feel like home is the way Emma hums as she cooks and the way she smiles when she catches his eye.

He laughs so hard he almost splits his wound open when she comes running in from the kitchen, waving her spoon around excitedly as she remembers the big news she hadn’t told him. On her night out at the tavern they had found Ruby’s soulmate, a woman named Dorothy with the same mark on her forearm. Emma was beaming as she relayed the news of her friend’s found connection, and Killian felt himself fall further in love with her.

After resting for most of the day, Killian finds himself able to join Emma at the table for dinner, although he gets too cocky when he attempts to stretch, and she gives him a disapproving glare.

‘It will only take you longer to heal if you push yourself.’ Emma scolds him, raising her eyebrows questioningly when he snorts in response.

‘Swan, might I remind you how _you_ behaved after you were hurt? I seem to recall you desperate to get up and not giving yourself enough time to heal.’ Killian teases as Emma clears the table after dinner.

‘That was because I was freaking the hell out about us being soulmates, not because I was being stupid and impatient.’ Emma retorts as she heads to the kitchen with their dishes. Killian hums and pokes at the fire before sitting in his armchair. They had developed a routine on evenings when they didn’t hunt, alternating between who cooks and cleans before they both settle down by the fire to talk or read. They had gone out the past few nights, two spent hunting and one having dinner with David and Mary Margaret, so Killian was eager to spend some alone time with Emma that didn’t involve killing demons, being attacked or acting chaste in front of their friends.

She returns from the kitchen and settles into the armchair beside him, wrapping herself in the blanket Mary Margaret had knitted for her. Killian had met Mary Margaret and David through Emma, who had known them through Ruby.  Ever since they discovered they were soulmates, their lives seemed to have blended together with ease, opening up his circle of friends and eventually his home when Emma was ready to move in.

‘I suppose that seer was right about events repeating themselves, just not in the way you thought.’ Emma sighs, and Killian knows how difficult it is for her to admit that the seer was right.

‘I wouldn’t like to know of the future.’ Killian replies, pensively watching the flames of the fire flicker.

‘Not even to know that everything was going to be okay? I know as a kid I would have felt a lot better if I’d known someday I’d find my place in the world.’ Emma says softly, and Killian’s heart squeezes as he recalls the times Emma had shared things from her childhood, the nights she’d spent on the street and the years in orphanages.

‘Perhaps, but isn’t that simply life, to not know where we’re headed? I know I want to have children one day, but I wouldn’t want to see it before I experience it.’ It takes a moment for Killian to realize the magnitude of what he has said, and he takes a cautious glance at Emma to see her wearing an unreadable expression.

‘You want children?’ Emma asks quietly, and suddenly the conversation is going down a path he hadn’t expected.

‘Aye, well with the little one on the way for David and Mary Margaret, I’ve been thinking about it.’ Killian shrugs, trying to act calm despite feeling his face flush. Emma sits quietly, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

‘With you of course.’ Killian adds, nervously scratching his ear.

‘Well I should hope so.’ Emma scoffs, and Killian pauses for a moment before laughing. Emma laughs too, a warm laugh that settles his nerves and soothes his soul.

‘You can tell me these things you know, Killian. You don’t always have to wait for me to say something.’ Emma says softly.

‘I just don’t want to overwhelm you, love. I know that you close off if things get too much and I don’t want that to happen with us.’

 ‘But what about you? It’s okay to talk to me about what _you_ want. Killian, you’re my soulmate and I love you, I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, I can handle committing to our future.’ Emma reaches for his arm and squeezes gently. Killian nods, feeling a lump form in his throat. He knows she loves him, and she agreed to move in, but he still worries that come the next big step in their relationship she’ll panic and run. But seeing her so calmly talk about their future relaxes him, and even makes him feel a little guilty for doubting her.

‘May I ask if you have considered having children?’ Killian says cautiously, watching as Emma’s lip curve into a smile.

‘I have. Not right now, but someday, I’d like to. I had this image in my head of us training them with wooden swords and blunt arrows. As they get older they beg to use real weapons and we both say no until one day you let our oldest use a real sword, and obviously that doesn’t end well.’ Emma laughs, losing herself in the vision she has of their future. Killian wordlessly tugs her towards him and she moves to sit on his lap, careful not to irritate his injury. He kisses her neck and wraps his arms around her, closing his eyes and imagining the picture she had painted.

‘No demon would ever want to cross our family.’ Killian murmurs, smiling at Emma’s humorous hum in response. His hand moves to her hip, his finger circling over her clothes where her mark is. Touching Emma’s mark always reminds him of its tangibility, how very real it is that they share a bond of love so strong the universe knows they are meant to be together. It’s the most exhilarating sensation he’s experienced, and he can’t wait to have more adventures with his demon hunting soulmate partner for life.


End file.
